


Hi Hungry, I'm Dad

by camichats



Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [134]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Harry Potter, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Raising Harry Potter, Second War with Voldemort, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Harry grows up with Sirius and James raising him. Sometimes it's annoying, sometimes it's fun, but mostly he knows that his family always cares.
Relationships: Harry Potter & James Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/James Potter
Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [134]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/752925
Comments: 4
Kudos: 191





	Hi Hungry, I'm Dad

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompts: "Prompt: Can I get a pov of harry over the years having two dads? Like instead of getting scolded for a prank, he gets a reward or advices on draco?"  
> AND  
> “Im not sure if you’ve already receive this because I sent a prompt two months ago. Prompt: Harry’s POV growing up with two dads”

Harry was laying face down on the floor, feeling miserable. Dad didn't seem to care, because other than an, "I'll listen to you when you have a better tone," he just let Harry be sad. Pop would save him, right? Because laying on the hard, cold wood was only making him feel worse, but if he got up, he'd be proving Dad right when he'd first said that all Harry needed was a little quiet time. 

The front door opened and closed, and Harry waited. "What's happening here?" Pop asked in a whisper. 

"Harry was getting overwhelmed, and when I reminded him that he couldn't yell at me, he decided the floor was his best friend." 

"Ah," Pop said, and Harry figured that this was the time where he'd step in. But all he did was pat him gently on the head and keep walking. 

Harry made a noise of frustration but didn't move. Now he was mad again, and he didn't want to get in real trouble if he screamed again. After ages and ages of listening to them walk around and move the chairs, he pushed himself up and shuffled off to his room. He'd still have to be quiet, but at least he could do it sitting on his bed. 

* * *

Hey Dad, can I go to Ron's tonight?" Neville was supposed to be there too, but his parents said it didn't really matter unless it was a whole bunch of people. 

Dad didn't look up, bringing the paper closer to his face to peer through his glasses at something (probably on the Quidditch page). "Go ask your father." 

Harry shuffled off and made his way to the garage. He opened the door and stepped onto the cold concrete steps, then looked up and saw Pop working on his motorbike, hair tied back. He said that Harry had to get older before he was allowed to ride it, but he'd said that years ago too, so Harry wasn't sure he'd _ever_ be allowed. "Hey Pop, can I spend the night at Ron's?" 

"Go ask your father." 

"I just asked him." 

"And what did he say?" 

"To ask you." 

Pop nodded. "Uh-huh. Go ask him again, prongslet." 

"Okay." It didn't make any sense, but fine, he'd go back and ask Dad again. He went back in the house and walked to the living room again where Dad was now holding the newspaper a few centimeters from his nose. "Hey Dad? Can I go to Ron's for tonight?" 

"Er," Dad said, clearly not paying attention as his brow furrowed. "Go ask your father." 

"I just asked him," Harry said, a little annoyed. This wasn't a big thing he was asking, he'd been to Ron's a hundred times before. 

"Ask him again." 

"He told me to ask _you_ again." 

"Well go ask him one more time Haz, just for good measure." 

Harry scowled at his father, but he still wasn't looking. " _Fine_ ," he said, throwing up his hands and turning towards the garage. This time, he opened the door but didn't step down. "Pop, can I go to Ron's?" 

"I thought you were going to ask Dad?" 

"I did, and he told me to ask you again." 

"How rude," Pop commented idly, clearly not meaning it. Harry kinda meant it. "When are you wanting to leave?" 

"Before dinner?" 

"And when will you be back?" 

"Before... lunch?" 

Pop nodded, finally looking up at him. "Sounds good. Let me know when you're ready and I'll bring you over." 

"Pop," Harry whined, blushing a little. "I'm not a little kid anymore, I know how to use the floo." 

"I know you do, but I don't let you wander the streets all by yourself, so you don't get to use the floo all by yourself." 

"I'm old enough to do both of those. I'm going to Hogwarts next year," he said, hoping that it would convince Pop to let him go by himself. It was so embarrassing to have his parents dropping him off every single time when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. 

"Ugh, don't remind me," Pop said, making a face. "I'm not happy about that either, but it's not like you'll be traipsing about the town by yourself; you're going to be in school, and it's only once you're thirteen that you're allowed to go to Hogsmeade weekends. I can handle you doing that at thirteen. Not ten. You're too young. Oh Merlin how are you already ten this is ridiculous." 

"But I can go?" Harry asked. If he didn't stop Pop, he'd just keep going and going. 

"Yep. And don't even think about popping over by yourself because I _will_ come get you back if you try it." 

"I won't," Harry sighed. The memory of the time he'd tried that was burned permanently into his brain, and he never wanted to be that embarrassed again. 

* * *

**_Dear Dad and Pop,_ **

**_I got detention. Professor McGonagall looked pretty mad, but you don't think she hates me now, right? She let me on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, that must mean she likes me a little? Wait do you think she'll kick me off? No jokes, I need to know because now I'm freaking out. It was only fifteen points and that's not NEAR enough to get rid of me. I think. Maybe? Merlin, I'm panicking. She doesn't HAVE to keep me on because she was already breaking the rules to get me on in the first place! My quidditch career is over before it could get started :( I'm going to end up, like, writing on an endless piece of parchment for the rest of my life until the day I die._ **

**_Anyways, I got detention because Malfoy (Draco, you remember him? What a prick) challenged me to a duel and I said yes only we had to do it after curfew because you're not allowed to duel, and instead of showing up he told Filch and I got caught out of bed. So yeah, Ron's got detention too, which isn't fun but at least we'll be writing lines together. It's supposed to be with Professor Quirrell, and I know he doesn't may that much attention so we'll be able to pass notes or something instead of dying of boredom._ **

**_Homework is awful. I can't believe I have to do this for SEVEN YEARS, I'm not sure I'll survive another month of this._ **

**_Love you! Harry_ **

James read it, then laughed and handed it over to Sirius. "Your son is a drama queen." 

" _Our_ son," Sirius corrected. " _Our_ son is a drama queen." Sirius got further down and snickered. "A very big drama queen. Why did he agree to a duel? Does he even know any spells that he could use?" 

"They're eleven, so he could probably use the Jelly Legs Jinx and win," James said automatically, then paused. "We should tell him not to accept any future duels, right? That's something responsible parents do?" 

"I think so," Sirius said, grabbing a sheet of parchment for their reply. The responding letter mostly consisted of a mini confetti explosion in celebration of his first detention, an assurance that McGonagall wasn't going to kick him off the team over fifteen measly points when James had easily cost Gryffindor three hundred points in his first year and still made it on the quidditch team in second year, and a reminder to not accept duels until he was at least fifteen and knew what he was doing. They may or may not have attached a list of possible pranks for Harry to use on Draco as payback for narcing on him, but they were merely suggestions. 

* * *

"I'm going to wrap you in a bubble charm and keep you home so you'll be safe," Pop said, practically suffocating Harry in a hug. He'd hugged him as soon as they came into the Hospital Wing, and he still hadn't let go. Dad had given him a very tight hug, then sat on the bed looking all worried. Harry had thought that was going to be the worst part-- the worried faces-- but Pop was still clinging to him. 

"You're choking me," Harry said. 

"Yeah and I don't think we can realistically keep him in the house that long. He'd pull a jailbreak, and then where would we be? C'mon Si, let the kiddo breathe," Dad said, tugging on Pop's arm. 

Pop finally let go, but it was very reluctant. Then he walked around the bed and cuddled up to Dad, looking like a sad puppy. 

"Look Harry, me and Pop talked about it and... maybe we should homeschool you next year."

"What?" 

"Last year was fine, you know? Unique sort of situation, you were trying to do the right thing, and it was just the once. But now, well now it's starting to feel like a pattern. I know you're not creating the trouble or summat, but this is the second time in two years that you've had a completely once-in-a-lifetime thing happen and it nearly killed you both times. Last time it was a philosopher's stone, this time it was a sodding basilisk, what's going to happen next year? Dumbledore's phoenix goes rogue?" 

"James," Pop said quietly, and Dad shook his head, expression turning half-worried, half-determined. 

"Right, just er, we think it would be safest this way. It's not set in stone yet or anything," he added when Harry realised they were being serious and not joking around, "but we- well, we're thinking about it for next year." 

"How is that any different than keeping me in a bubble?" 

"Lots of kids get homeschooled, it's not that strange. You'd still be able to leave the house and everything." 

"What about quidditch?" Even if both his parents and Uncle Moony played with him, that wouldn't be enough for a single team, let alone a game. 

"Like I said Haz, it's not decided yet." 

"But you're thinking about it," he muttered petulantly, picking at the white sheet covering his legs. 

"You almost died. Twice. That's not normal, so we don't get to treat it like it is." 

Harry wanted to cry because it _wasn't fair_ , but Dad's voice was getting that edge to it that meant he was getting all emotional and wasn't going to be swayed no matter how much Harry tried to talk him out of it. Oh Merlin he was actually about to start crying. He scrubbed at his face, and now Pop was hugging him again but he didn't mind as much this time. 

"I know it seems like the end of the world, Harry," he said quietly, just for Harry's ears, "but all we want is for you to be safe, happy, and healthy. We'll figure it out together, okay?" 

Harry sniffled and didn't respond. 

* * *

"Hey, erm, can Draco come to dinner this Saturday?" 

"Yeah sure," Dad said, then paused, whipping his head around comically to look at Harry. "Draco _Malfoy_?" 

"Er. Yeah? Do you know any other Draco's?" 

"I thought you hated him." 

"Back in like, first year, when he was a total prat," Harry said, shifting awkwardly. He'd known this was going to be awkward as all hell when he asked if Draco wanted to come, but having to deal with it was a whole new level of mortifying. 

"Is not a prat anymore?" Dad asked, but it's not as though he had a personal stake in this, he was just confused. All he had to go on was the Malfoy name-- and therefore what he knew about Lucius and Narcissa-- and what Harry told him. Harry had been a touch, er, in denial about his obsession with Draco, but Ron had set him straight (as it were). 

"He's not that bad when you get him to use his brain." Once you pointed out the issues with blood purist logic, he started to get over it. It was a bit of a work in progress, but he was trying. He had even apologised to Hermione for calling her slurs, and after it became clear he meant it, they'd started getting along. Sort of. They both liked to be the smartest person in the room, so they had a tendency to butt heads. "You'll see, he's great." 

"Okay," Dad said slowly, peering at Harry in a way that made him shift again. "Oh." Dad's eyes went wide, and he had a little smirk on his face. 

Harry's face flamed in embarrassment. 

"Of course he can come." 

* * *

Harry was wringing his hands, waiting for the yelling to start. His fathers had never yelled at _him_ before, but more and more often they'd been yelling _near_ him, and with everything going on recently, they might actually yell at him this time. He'd broken into the Ministry, brought his friends with him, nearly died _again_ , gone toe to toe with Death Eaters when they didn't think he should even be dueling yet, and... he'd had his arse saved by them and the other Order members showing up. They were going to be so mad at him for not only getting into this mess, but for dragging his friends into the trouble too. Sure Neville, Ron, and Hermione were all used to this by now, but this was a first time for the others. Ginny and Luna, for example. And Luna had gotten a cut on her leg so bad that she couldn't walk. Ginny had gotten sand from the time turners in the cuts on her hand and now she was having issues with her memory. Not the mention that Draco had specifically not been invited to help the situation with his family, but he'd come along anyways and gotten a bludgeoning spell right in the arm. 

And it was all his fault. 

Almost all of them had gotten hurt, and it was Harry's fault. Buggering hell, he _deserved_ to get yelled at. Maybe next time he'd be smart enough to leave them all at Hogwarts, where they'd be safe. 

Dad came over to him, but Pop was still talking (more like arguing) with the aurors. "You hurt?" he asked. 

Mutely, Harry shook his head. 

Dad pulled him into a one armed hug, his other hand still clutched tight around his wand. "Let's go home." 

"My friends-" 

"Are going home too. You'll be able to check in with them tomorrow." 

They started to walk, but Harry stopped. "What about Pop?" 

"He'll meet us at home when he's done." 

"I... okay," Harry muttered. 

* * *

Voldemort was dead again, and Harry felt guilty for everyone that had died. Felt guilty for everyone that had gotten hurt. He felt... a lot, and none of it was good. Dad had almost died, and Pop hadn't been able to stop crying for three days. When Dad got out of hospital, he'd done a lot of crying too. 

Harry moved out, thinking it would help. 

His fathers kept calling him to make sure he was still eating and getting rest; he wasn't. They asked him to move back in, and he did because all moving out had done was make him feel worse. His nightmares had gotten worse and he never wanted to leave the flat, let alone cook himself anything decent. Living back at home though, Dad was cooking to deal with stress, and Pop forced him to come along for errands just so he'd get fresh air. 

* * *

"Hey Pop?" 

"Hm?" 

"What would you say if I told you I fancy women?" 

"I'd ask if there's a particular woman taking up your attention." 

"And if I fancy men?" 

"I'd ask if there's a particular man taking up your attention." 

"And if I fancy both?" 

Pop looked over at him and blinked. "I'd ask if you're dating two people at once, because that can be dangerous. Do they know about each other? Cause it's fine if they do, but if they don't, that's playing with fiendfyre, Haz." 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "No, there's not anyone. Not a man or a woman, and certainly not one of each. I was just... I dunno, I guess I was wondering if you were okay with it?" 

"Course I am." Pop tilted his head a little. "Were you worried?" 

"I dunno. A little." 

"Has it escaped your attention that I am married to your father? Another man?" 

Harry rolled his eyes, giving Pop's shoulder a shove as he started to feel a little silly for being nervous. "Yeah, I noticed, thanks. Do you think Dad will care?" 

"He'll probably ask you the same questions I did." 

"Why would you _both_ think there's someone I'm interested in?" 

"There was a certain Draco Malfoy that you were eyeing, if I remember correctly." 

"You knew about that?" Harry squeaked, cheeks reddening. 

"You aren't very subtle, prongslet. Did that ever go anywhere?" 

Harry thought about the almost dates they'd been going on, and his blush deepened. He cleared his throat, and Pop chuckled. 

"Don't worry about it, kiddo, I'm just taking the piss. Dad won't mind that you like one or the other or both anymore than I did." 

Harry cleared his throat again and willed for his cheeks to go back to their normal color. "Thanks, Pop." He'd won a war, been in more fights than he could count, but telling his fathers that he was bi was still embarrassing. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a prompt driven blog @[imaginejamesandsirius](https://imaginejamesandsirius.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Feel free to drop by!


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